


Crash

by fivefootthree



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Whump, intense friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 15:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10415616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivefootthree/pseuds/fivefootthree
Summary: Caitlin and Cisco bring him through, after. Post 3.16.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trufflemores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/gifts).



It had actually been hours since they had disbanded for the day, needing time to regroup and process and _breathe_ before they picked up the fight again. Julian – not unkindly – had rejected her offer to get takeout together, and she didn’t blame him. Her dinner lay untouched on the table in front of her until the smell finally drove her to get up and toss the bag in the trash outside her front door. 

So she showered and just curled up on the sofa, nursing a hot cup of tea, and thought about Barry and the heavy, acrid silence of the dark night around her, waiting for something, she thought. Maybe for the air around her to lose its sourness – to become the comfortable warm solitude she was accustomed to living in, at least when she wasn’t missing Ronnie. 

Neither Barry nor Wally had told her much when she pulled them aside, one after the other, to check up on them after they came back. Both had been exhausted, their natural bright exuberance dimmed down, grief and regret bleeding from their eyes, their voices raspy and shaky. Exhausted, but physically they were okay.

But she could hardly bring herself to look Barry in the eyes – the pain leeching from them made her heart throb, a lump taking over her throat. He wouldn’t let her hug him the way she wanted to, long and hard. But the fleeting glance he threw her way after she finished checking him revealed that if he gave in to her compassion he’d fall apart – and he wasn’t ready to do that yet. He had disappeared shortly after, and Caitlin had turned off the tracker to give him some privacy – some space to sit and breathe. 

It was sliding past 1AM when Caitlin, finally beginning to doze off, jerked awake. Someone was banging at the door. _Well,_ she thought ruefully after the initial fear wore off, _at least being Killer Frost means I can take care of myself._

But it was Barry, visibly shaking, vibrating almost, like a leaf on her doorstep, still in his Flash suit. “C—Caitlin, I c-can’t, I can’t breathe! I c-can’t, I’m sorry, I c-couldn’t—”

She grabbed him and pulled him in before anyone saw the Flash on her doorstep. “What happened? Was it Savitar? Barry, where were you?” Had she missed something in the check-up? Had he gotten up to something since she’d last seen him? Was it some sort of delayed reaction? She sat him down and was palpating his limbs, stripping off the top of the suit, checking him all over again.

_Oh._ It was a panic attack, she realized, taking in his hyperventilation, the cold sweat glistening on his forehead, and the way his heart was racing. “Oh, Barry,” she said, her heart breaking for him all over again. She kneeled in front of him on the couch, looking up at him and taking her hands in hers. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to breathe together, okay? Breathe, and hold for three counts, and then breathe out, and hold for three counts, okay? 

And they sat together and just breathed for a while, until the tension finally drained out of his arms and he sagged into her hold, hiding his face against her shoulder. 

“Caitlin, I think I’m going to fall apart,” he said finally, and his voice against her sleeve was thin and full – a young boy carrying more hurt than he can handle and asking for solace.

She spoke slowly, her heart twisting and aching within her. She knew something of what it meant to carry hurt with you, deep and heavy and dark and weighing you down. She felt old suddenly, knowing what her friend had to go through before he could go forward, and paused to text Cisco briefly, tapping out the message with one hand. _Barry’s here._

He had to have been waiting for the message. _I’m coming._

“Then do it, Barry. _Cry_. Let it out.”

Because Caitlin knew all about lancing the boil. Of letting the pus out, of expunging all the twisting ceaseless turmoil that roils and hungers and sucks at your heart, thickening the air until it is impossible to breathe. 

He dragged his head up to look at her in wordless surprise, his eyes bloodshot and lidded. 

“You have to let it out or it’ll eat you alive, sweetheart. I’ll help you put yourself back together again afterwards, I promise. But you have to let it out. You have to let yourself feel it. Feel _all_ of it.”

And she could tell he was close to losing it, her own breath hitching as Barry shuddered in her grasp, trying to stifle the tears. “Cry, Barry,” she urged again as she got up from her knees to sit next to him on the couch. When she opened her arms to him, he lost the fight and surrendered himself to her, trusting her to catch him as his head came to rest on her neck and he wept – breathless, choking gasps that quickly escalated into heaving, angry, agonized sobs. He was muttering underneath his breath too, barely audible, _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I'm sorry._

She clutched him tightly and wept with her friend.

Soon after, Cisco arrived and let himself in with the extra key she had given him. His face crumpled when he took in the scene: Caitlin, pale and tired and doe-eyed with shared grief, cradling an agitated Barry in the process of crying himself dry, shudders wracking his half-undressed body, his arms wrapped tight around her, his fingers fisted into the threadbare cotton of her pajamas as he held on for dear life.

“Oh, Barry,” he breathed, his heart twisting sharply, but the grieving Speedster didn’t even pick up on his arrival. He slung the bag he brought with him on the floor and went to sit on Barry’s other side, facing him and resting his hand on his knee. “We got you, buddy. We’re here,” he said. Barry flung his hand out without looking, searching blindly for Cisco’s palm. 

Cisco grabbed it and held tight, just like he had earlier—God, was it earlier _that day?_ Well, they hadn’t slept that night. And the nightmare wasn’t over yet. Caitlin’s eyes met his over Barry’s shaking form, and though he could tell she was relieved he was there he took a second to ache for her too – and to be a little bit proud as well. He had done the same for her – more than once, and she for him. They had been safe places for each other to crack wide open under the weight of grief, and though it was painful for her she was absolutely the best person to lead Barry through this. 

“How long has he been like this?” he asked quietly.

“Almost an hour now,” she whispered, and he reached around Barry to place a grounding arm on her shoulder. 

“What can I do?”

“My back is killing me. If I lie down, can you take his boots off and lift his feet up? Once he stops crying we should move him to my bed.”

He nodded, getting up. “Barry, I’m going to help you and Caitlin lie down, okay, buddy? Just relax, we got you,” he said, as he knelt down to remove the boots.

There was a snuffling sound as Barry tried to collect himself and pull himself away, but Caitlin wouldn’t let him, holding him close. “It’s okay, Barry. We can do this for you, please let us?”

He swallowed, nodding, and the tears resumed their desperate trickle down his hollowed cheeks, though his sobs had lessened. 

“How about drinking some water? That’ll help replenish some of those fluids and make you feel a bit better?” 

Cisco snagged one of the water bottles from her fridge and helped Barry drink. He drank slowly at first, but managed to down the bottle in a few minutes, actually panting with the effort. “Thanks,” he managed, his voice wrecked – but the sobs had ended even though tears still traced their way down his face. Cisco took the opportunity to snake Barry’s hands through the fleece sweater he’d brought from his apartment. 

Caitlin held Barry up and looked at him. “Do you think we could move to my bedroom instead? You’ll feel better in a real bed, Barry.”

He nodded, swallowing repeatedly as a muscle in his jaw ticked.

“Can you help us get you there?”

He nodded again, and just like that he had flashed them to Caitlin’s bedroom, landing together in a heap on the floor as Barry collapsed with a groan. In their disorientation they took a moment to untangle themselves. Cisco was the first to recover—

“Whoa, buddy, easy, are you okay? We got you.” He pushed Barry up into a seated position against the side of the bed, and Caitlin propped him up against her side. “Just catch your breath,” Caitlin counseled, grabbing some tissues and mopping off Barry’s face. “Cisco did you happen to bring any pants of his with you?” 

He nodded. “Got you covered, my speedy friend. Can’t have you sleeping in those spandex tights of yours now, can we?” but something about his forcibly chipper tone set the tears to starting again.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Cisco said, kneeling quickly back down beside Barry. “Hey, look at me. Look at me, Barry,” he urged, feeling the lump rise up in his throat as Barry raised wrecked, dead eyes to his. The man was _broken_ , and it was hard to resist the urge to envelop him in his arms and protect him against all comers. “I’ve got you. _We’ve_ got you. You’re going to be okay, man. Promise.” 

Barry gave a tired, wordless nod and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the edge of the bed.

Cisco retrieved the clothing he’d brought with him and between the three of them Barry was soon out of his suit and in more comfortable wear. They hauled him up from the floor and helped him into bed, his eyes squinched shut as vertigo made the world spin round him, but finally things stopped moving. He relaxed into the lush downy pillows, groaning as his spine popped and loosened, his eyes slipping shut in relief as Caitlin pulled her thick duvet over him and finally, finally he could pull in a deep breath, his muscles finally unclenching as he was able to pull big, heaving breaths of oxygen into his lungs.

“That’s it, Barry,” Caitlin soothed, brushing her palm to his cheek. The tenderness of it very nearly set him off again, but instead he pulled his hand out from underneath the blankets and reached for hers. She smiled. “Just breathe deep.”

He swam up again to consciousness when he felt Caitlin tuck his arm back underneath the blankets. “We’ll let you sleep now, Barry. We’ll just be in the other room.”

“Wa—wait,” he called, his voice cracking. “Please can you—stay?” He felt more than saw Caitlin and Cisco exchange a look and make up their minds. “Of course, Barry,” Caitlin said, sliding in on his right side. A heartbeat later, Cisco got in on his left. 

They lay awkwardly for a moment before Cisco huffed a breath. “Well fuck it,” he said, sprawling over Barry and slinging an arm over his chest. Caitlin muffled a chuckle and followed suit, nestling right up to Barry and laying her head in the crook of his neck, resting her arm over his shoulder.

And Barry, drifting further into sleep, couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so boneless and comfortable. He wasn’t okay yet – not by a long shot – grief still roping through his heart and bones, but something about the warm weight of his two friends flanking him, pressing him down into the mattress, grounding him, made him feel it was safe to _stop moving._

He groped around until he found their hands and murmured _thank you_ before sleep finally overcame him. 

“Thanks, Cisco,” Caitlin said softly into the half-dark. Cisco reached his arm a little further until he found her hand and squeezed it tightly. 

The clock read 5:37AM.

Barry was still passed out next to her when she drifted awake around 9. Cisco was up rummaging for his phone, a yawn splitting his face in half. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Thought I’d text the gang and tell them what gives.”

She nodded, dragging in a deep breath. “Good idea,” she agreed, snuggling closer to Barry’s warmth and letting her eyes drift shut again. She was asleep again before Cisco climbed back in on his side.

Barry was the next to stir, a little after 11. Waking up was like floating up from the bottom of a deep pool of water, and he found himself taking a deep breath as he opened his eyes.

But he froze when he found a sound asleep Caitlin nestled into one side, and a snoring Cisco facing him on the other. 

A little ache woke up in his heart again at the sight of them so vulnerable next to him – him who had taken so much away from them. Caitlin, the lines of shy sadness wiped away from her face in sleep, looked like a doll, a girl-child on whom he had placed an unforgivably heavy burden. His gaze lingered on her, remembering the child she’d carried in her arms—the child he had taken away from her. And Cisco, his exuberance and personality dimmed in sleep, looked older— haggard, still, with bags under his eyes. And there was no one to blame for that except him.

“Mmmm, whatever you’re doing, stop it,” Cisco rasped, his eyes still closed. “I feel you tensing up. Quit messing with the beauty sleep, man, we should all be catching up on our beauty sleep.”

It took a moment for sound to come out of his scratchy throat. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Cisco pulled in a deep breath and opened his eyes, startling a little when he realized how close he was to Barry’s eyes. He sighed at the ache still spilling out of his eyes. “Geez, Barry, enough with the puppy dog eyes, my heart breaks just looking at you. Buck up, man, we’re all still on your side. We’re gonna get through this – I know we are.”

Barry just looked at Cisco long enough for Cisco to start feeling nervous. “Can you—are you falling asleep with your eyes open? Can you do that, because man that might be the freakiest thing I have ever seen you do, and I have seen you do freaaaaaaky—”

And yeah, maybe he was babbling a bit because this? This was _intimate,_ and freaky, yeah, freaky, lying in bed with the friggin _superhero_ who was the _fastest man alive_ who had been _falling apart_ in front of him yesterday who was at least partly responsible for _his brother’s death_ who was still somehow one of _Cisco Ramon’s best friends_. So a minor freakout isn’t unjustified. Right? Right. _Oh Caitlin please wake up!_

But Barry’s eyes were tearing up again (where do all those waterworks even come from?) and when he spoke his voice was low and husky, like he was going to cry again ( _nononono please I can’t deal with that again)_. “Cisco, how can you still have faith in me after all this? Everything I’ve done to _you_ and, and, to _everyone_ , how can you even look at me?

In the pause, Caitlin shifted on Barry’s other side, starting to wake up. 

“I’m still hurting over Dante, not gonna lie to you about that, Barry. He was my brother. But the thing is – ” he paused, realizing the magnitude of what he was about to say and the – absolute sincerity with which he meant it. “The thing is, you’re my brother too, and—family screws up, but, we have each other’s back too. And I don’t have faith in _you_ , bro, I have faith in _us._ ”

Barry gripped Cisco’s hand, hard, a lifeline. “I don’t deserve that,” he breathed. 

_No, you don’t,_ a little part of Cisco’s brain agreed. But—

“I don’t deserve it either,” he said, serious for once. “But family doesn’t work like that anyway. You of all people know that.” 

Caitlin’s breathing shifted and she stretched, bones popping, as Barry’s eyes turned thoughtful. He [i]did[/i] know that, though he also knew that didn’t absolve him of his sins. 

“He’s right, you know,” Caitlin added, her voice slurred with sleep. “And you also know what it’s like to depend on your adopted family,” she added, wriggling further into Barry’s side until he picked his arm up and wrapped it around her so that her head was on his shoulder. “I know what that’s like too.”

Barry squeezed her in gratitude, wrapping his other arm around Cisco and holding them both close to him. “You are both so precious to me,” he breathed. “I hope you know that.” 

Caitlin smiled, basking in the warmth of Barry sounding like he was on solid ground again. “There he is,” she said. “Welcome back! We were worried for a while!”

And Cisco held up a hand for a high five over Barry’s stomach.

When she looked up into his face he was smiling again, and her heart eased. He wouldn’t be truly whole until he and Iris were back together, she knew, but she had promised him that she would help him put himself back together again, and she and Cisco _did_. Enough so that now they had a chance of finally defeating Savitar, and then Iris and Barry could patch things up again. 

And damn it, if they can defeat Savitar—and she had no doubt they would—they can figure out a way to reverse her powers.

But first, coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> with thanks to trufflemores for reams of lovely Flash fan fiction.


End file.
